You Got Me Into This
by CalculusWasTough
Summary: Harry receives some startling information about Professor Snape, shortly before the two are sent on a mission together. How will it impact Harry's perception of the man? /DISCONTINUED/
1. It Started With An Accident

**A/N: Er, sorry, I'm still working on a title. I never really come up with a good one until I get to the end of the story haha. So just ignore the one I've got now and read this story as though the title never existed XD But do acknowledge that it's HPSS. And yeah, I know this first chapter sounds like a crack!fic, but it gets better after this. I tried to make a crack!fic and failed haha.**

**Warning: Slash alert! Nothing R rated, but the pairing is there.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine. *cries* **

Snarry: A Love Story

"What?!"

Dumbledore nodded his head solemnly at the messy-haired student, who stared at him wide-eyed and incredulous before exclaiming,

"He did WHAT with WHO?? ...and WHERE was the marching band??!!"

Although the situation was clearly serious and proving to be a cause of great distress for the student, Dumbledore couldn't prevent his lips from twitching upwards. Noticing this, the teen standing before his desk gaped at him in disbelief.

"You think this is _funny_?" Immediately straightening his expression, Dumbledore answered him calmly.

"Oh, no, of course not Harry. I just wonder if you aren't overreacting a tad. It was just an accidental encounter after all."

"Accidental? ACCIDENTAL?? How the hell do you have an ACCIDENTAL _sexual _encounter? And at a town bar-b-que no less! 'Accidental' my arse." Then Harry flushed and muttered, "Excuse my language Professor."

"Harry, my boy, you must remember this happened some many years ago-"

"Sixteen!"

"-Many years ago, and the blurred memories of some tiny details must be forgiven."

"Tiny! Blurred memories! I-well-I...." Harry spluttered, trying to decide which statement should be addressed first.

"How can you call sixteen years too long a time to remember, when just last week you dragged me up here and stuffed lemon drops down my throat while reminiscing about Amazing Albie and Molestable Minnie saving the world, one man-eating jumbo shrimp at a time! That was over thirty years ago!"

Dumbledore sighed and gazed out the window, a far away look in his eyes.

"Ah, yes, those were the days. And she _was _rather molestable back then, wasn't she? Still is, I think."

Suppressing a disgusted shudder at the mental image, the green-eyed teen fought to bring the conversation back to the important matter.

"But how could this be true?!" Dumbledore opened his mouth to say something, but Harry cut him off. "How could I live sixteen years of my life without being told this?? It's not possible!"

"Now Harry, I know you're upset, but it was a long time ago. You should stop worrying about the past, and think about what you're going to do now that you know."

"What I'm going to do..." Harry's eyes went wide. "I'm not going to do _anything_! Except pretend we never had this conversation. I think I'd rather have never known. Can you Obliviate me now?"

Dumbledore let out a chuckle before responding.

"Oh, that won't do at all. No, my boy, Obliviate simply isn't an option. YOu'll just have to face the truth and accept it."

Harry shook his head rapidly. "No! I can't. I won't. If I leave this room with my memory intact, I'll go throw myself out of a window in Gryffindor Tower! There's nothing you can do to stop me! Nothing!"

Raising an eyebrow, Dumbledore pulled out his wand and cast a Weightless Charm on him.

"-Except that."

"If you're quite through with the melodramatics?"

"...I'm not, but what do you want to say?"

"Harry, I know what you've discovered today is something of a shock-"

The raven-haired boy snorted.

"-but running away and feignning ignorance won't solve anything. Whether you like it or not-"

"No! Don't say it!"

"Professor Snape is your father."


	2. Getting His End In

**A/N: I know the first chapter was probably really confusing, and didn't make much sense, but trust me when I say it gets better from here. At least to ME it does. :D PS, looking for a beta.**

**Reviews:**

**Krystaluvstwilight- I know right? I mean, learning your mom && the greasy git got it on... *shudder* XD At least, that's how he feels *right now***

**animehpgurl- Thanks! ^_^ **

**Warnings: Same as first chapter. But yeah, it's also AU, since this could really never happen in the books xD**

Getting His End In

Harry stormed down the stairs from Dumbledore's office, furious thoughts circulating in his head as he made his way back to the Common Room.

How dare he! What in Merlin's name was the man thinking?! First, to tell Harry he was overreacting, and then to oh-so-casually inform him he was being sent on a mission. With Snape and no one else! For "father-son bonding time"! Like that could ever happen. The outraged teen was sure the only bonding likely to happen would be between his chopped up body parts and Snape's cauldron. Dumbledore must have been out of his mind to believe the two enemies could suddenly become best buddies.

So intent on his frustration was he that Harry neglected to watch the corridor in front of him as he walked, causing him to run into a surprisingly solid _something _without warning. To prevent himself from tumbling downwards, the messy-haired teen grabbed for the closest object, which happened to be the _something's_ robes. Steadying himself, Harry chanced a glance upwards and immediately wished he could sink through the floor.

"Release me at **once**, Potter."

Harry jerked his hands away as if they'd been burned, backing up a few paces to put some space in between him and Snape's scowl. The head of Slytherin glared down at him, his hands automatically shifting to smooth out the wrinkles caused by the Gryffindor's hold on his robes. Harry instantly felt a sense of awkwardness fill the silence that followed Snape's command. Here he was, mere minutes after finding out the greasy git was his father, and what was he expected to do? What _could _he do? Smile and say, "Hey there, you great over-sized ugly bat, you! Heard you were mi padre; funny how fate always has to get its end in. Or, really, you had to get _your _end... in. So what d'ya think of the Chudley Cannons' chances this year?"

Not.

Bloody.

Likely.

And so Harry did nothing. He stood perfectly still a few feet away from Snape, his eyes locked on the other's. After a few seconds of absolutely nothing, Snape sneered at him.

"I see the Chosen One has yet to choose to learn some manners, hmm? Detention, Potter. Tonight."

"What!" The teen temporarily forgot his previous hesitations, allowing his frustrations to come rushing forth. "You can't do that!" he protested. Snape's lips curled.

"Don't presume to tell me what I can and can't do Potter." He pusehd the angered teen out of this path and began to continue on down the corridor. Before he'd taken more than three steps however, he turned back to Harry, saying,

"Oh, and ten points from Gryffindor. For manhandling a teacher."

"Bloody hell!" Harry swore. Snape smiled nastily at him.

"And another fifteen for language." Then he was gone, an infuriated Gryffindor left in his wake.

That bastard! Who the hell did he think he was, taking points and assigning detention like it was his god-given right? The frickin' Banana King or something? Upset though he was, Harry's lips twitched. No, he was just greasy-haired Snape. And... his father? The knowledge invaded his mind again, and suddenly he groaned. Tomorrow would begin their mission, and Harry would have to be in close quarters with the man while actually getting something accomplished. This couldn't end well, if these last few minutes were anything to go by. Did Snape know he knew yet? Would the fact change anything? Maybe Snape would be nicer. Ha, yeah, and the man frequently took to riding on sparkly pink unicorns and singing The Clean Up song at the end of Potions everyday.

Sighing, Harry began to walk towards the Common Room again. Until another thought came to him, one which prompted him to aim a kick at one of the nearby suits of armor lining the corridor. He succeeded in hitting it, but really wished he hadn't when pain shot up his foot and into his leg. _Holy mother of..._ he started to swear, before wondering if he could really say Merlin. **Was **Merlin's mother holy? Nobody ever talked about her. They talked about Merlin himself, and sometimes his knickers, but never his mother. Harry supposed that was awfully polite of everyone, but still. Some things ought to be known. Then he remembered why he'd kicked the suit in the first place, and considered doing it again even though his foot still hurt from the first time.

Detention tonight with the slimy git himself.


	3. Like a Fifty Ton Gorilla!

**A/N: So... I'm back! And while I really appreciate how many people have put me on their Story Alert & Story Favorite, I wish some might actually review T_T It would help me out a lot. I'm open to criticism! Just... don't attack me and tell me how stupid my story is or anything XD I might cry haha.**

**Warnings: Same as before.**

"Like a Fifty Ton Gorilla!"

The rest of the day went by slowly, much too slowly, the clock ticking off one second at a time, increasing Harry's anxiety with each that passed. He sat at the Gryffindor table with his classmates, half of him wishing dinner would hurry up and end, the other half hoping it never would--that Dumbledore would call for a Never-Ending Feast so as to rescue Harry from his detention that night. The logical part of his brain knew time was passing at its usual pace, that it never changed, but still the uneasy teen insisted it was mocking him. Time was purposefully slowing down, simply to make him nervous while it laughed in the background.

"Harry? Are you alright?" a concerned looking Hermione asked. "You haven't even touched your plate."

Looking down, harry saw she was right. He forced a smile onto his face and turned to look at his bushy-haired friend.

"Fine, Hermoine. I'm just not very hungry." Then he glanced up at the Staff Table.

First, his eyes met Dumbledore's, who gave him a wink. Unsure what to make of it, Harry let his gaze travel down one side of the table, until it landed on Snape. The intimidating Potions Master was staring at him intently, but it seemed like he was deep in thought, unaware of what he was doing. Harry stared back at him, wondering what the other was thinking, but knowing better than to hope the man might tell him. _When Malfoy kisses Ron and they decide to have lots of mini Weasleys maybe._

All at once, Snape came back to himself, and harry could pinpoint the exact moment he recognized who he was looking at. He blinked, upon recentering himself, then some emotion the Gryffindor couldn't identify flickered across his face when he caught Harry's stare. For one second, everything else melted away. The two looked at each other across the Great Hall unflinchingly, and Harry forgot just why he had been so worried. Something in his heard pushed forward, Harry almost physically reached out for Snape, but then something hard slammed into the green-eyed teen's back and the moment broke.

"What the bloody hell was that??" Harry cried out, half in shock at the blow, half angry that he'd been distracted form looking at Snape. Rather foolish idea, he realized, when his outburst caused Hermione to refocus her concern on him. Ron, however, just laughed, along with the rest of the Gryffindors around him.

"I just slapped you on the back mate! You left us so I was helping you back."

Harry already had a goblet filled with pumpkin juice in his hand, prepared to shove it down his red-haired friend's throat, goblet and all, before he regained control of his senses and pushed the cup away. Inwardly he was confused, but he did his best to hide it as he exclaimed,

"Just slapped me on the back?? Ron, you've got a slap like a fifty ton gorilla! Have you been working out with Grawp lately?"

He slid his gaze back up to the Staff Table in time to see Snape rise form it, and exit through the teachers' door back to the corridors. Having had enough of waiting and pretending to eat, Harry muttered an excuse about getting ready for detention and left the Great Hall. He didn't notice the look Hermione and Ron shared as he walked out, so intent was he on meeting up with Snape.

Standing by himself in the Entrance Hall, Harry took some time to ponder what had just happened. This was the first encounter the boy had had with a Snape who wasn't snarling or glaring at him with contempt. What could it mean? _Was _the head of Slytherin house getting nicer? Harry made a mental note to be on the lookout for sparkly pink unicorns, just in case. And another one to bring ear pulugs to next Potions lesson. Just in case. But another thing he wanted to think about was his reaction to the interruption. He'd been positively **furious **for a while there. _Why?_ What was so important about looking at the greasy git that he'd almost attack his best friend for getting in the way? He didn't have a clue.

Heaving a great sigh, Harry headed off for the dungeons, no closer to figuring things out than when he started. _Perhaps, _he thought, _Snape is still in his not-bad mood, and he'll explain some of this. _Whatever was happening, he hoped it didn't ahve to do with the newfound knowledge Professor Dumbledore had given him. Was the information worming its way into his skull and creating a bond between them? Suppressing a shudder, Harry decided that if he ever called Snape "Daddy", he'd sacrifice himself to the Giant Squid, come back as a ghost, and spend eternity haunting the U-bends with Moaning Myrtle. And if anyone dared to throw a book through _his _head, he'd rip out their throats. Well... pay someone who was a little more solid to. ...With his transparent money? Dammit. Well, hopefully, it'd never come to that.


	4. We Both Reached For The Gun

**A/N: Oh gawd it's taken me forever to put up another chapter. I actually had this done a while ago, but I never had a moment to type it up. Sorry!! I promise to update more frequently, now that the holidays && everything else is over now. This chapter's a bit longer than the others though, so maybe that'll be some consolation haha. Thanks for the reviews!! Errr, I could also use a beta lol. **

"We Both Reached for the Gun" Pt 1

It was an awkward and uncomfortable five minutes that Harry spent outside Snape's door, reluctant to enter. When he left the Great Hall, he hadn't considered the fact that he'd be too _early _for detention. How would he explain it? "Father! Oh how I've missed you in the many hours we've been parted since this morning! Alas, it was with such sweet sorrow in my heart that I've awaited our fateful rendezvous, and I could not help but to come early, so eager was I to see your dear face again!"?

Besides the fact that Harry didn't think he could ever say those words while keeping a straight face, he found it difficult to imagine the reserved Potions Master receiving them well. The man would probably send him straight to the Infirmary; well, straight after docking about a hundred points from Gryffindor. The teen also noticed his internal monologue, despite beginning with "Father", sounded more like a lover's speech. **What **in the name of Merlin's soggy underpants was happening to him?

"Stop hovering outside uselessly and get in here, Potter!"

Snape's voice broke through Harry's thoughts; he jumped, caught completely off guard. _How did he know I was here?_ Harry asked himself incredulously. Still slightly in shock, he pulled open the office door and stepped inside.

Severus Snape was sitting behind his desk, fingers casually resting on top of it, eyes trained on Harry's progress into the room. As far as the messy-haired Gryffindor could tell, Snape hadn't been doing anything before he came in; indeed, the oak desk lacked any accessories apart from an ink bottle and feathered quill, and a blank sheet of parchment. _Is he going to make me write lines? _wondered Harry. If so, it was definitely a sign the man was losing his touch; usually his punishments were much more grueling than that.

"Sit down!" Snape snarled at him, so without pausing to think, Harry immediately dropped down on the floor and crossed his legs. The head of Slytherin let out a derisive laugh. From his angle on the floor Harry couldn't see Snape beyond the desk, but he didn't need to in order to know the man was smirking at him. _Well, _he thought, _so much for a "nice" Snape. _

"Although I'm grateful to find you aren't completely incapable of doing what you're told, I meant in _the chair,_ Potter."

As soon as Harry relocated himself in the seat across from Snape, he spoke again.

"The Headmaster has informed me of his decision to impart certain facts to you. I assume that, judging by your behavior earlier, he has done this?"

For the first time, Harry detected a sort of tension in Snape; his shoulders were drawn back and his hands now clenched the sides of his desk. Harry suddenly wondered what** he **had thought when he found out the Gryffindor was his son. And what was he thinking now? Was he worried about Harry's reaction? Did Snape even know how to worry? He wasn't sure. Remembering the man's question, Harry nodded yes.

"And what is your opinion now?"

The raven-haired boy nearly fell out of his chair. _Snape_, the biggest git he knew, was asking what he, Harry James Potter, bane of his existence, thought?? Maybe Snape was the one who needed to go to the Infirmary, clearly something was wrong with his head.

"Stop sitting there gaping at me and answer the question!" snapped the Potions Master.

Oh. That was better. It occurred to Harry that he wasn't being punished the way he had assumed he would. Well, that was fine with him; he'd rather sit and talk than scrub cauldrons or disembowel toads any day, but still... something was off. It seemed like Snape was caring a great deal more about this matter than Harry had expected him to.

"Er... well, yeah, you know..." he rambled, unsure of how to answer.

"Your profusion of eloquence overwhelms me, Potter."

The teen promptly blushed scarlet, glaring over at Snape, who merely smirked again. He stayed quiet for a second, trying to organize his thoughts. How **did **he feel about Snape being his father?

"I was really surprised at first," Harry said slowly, "It's a lot to take in you know?" He paused, and then continued. "I'm still not entirely sure how it came to be, but I don't think it changes very much in the large scheme of things."

This was true, in Harry's opinion. He was sixteen years old, less than a year away from being a legal adult, at which time he could leave the Dursleys' house forever. There really wasn't much need for a new parental figure in his life (he did have Remus after all), except for advice, and the prospect of asking Snape for help with his love life, or anything else for that matter, was about as appealing as kissing a Blast-Ended Skrewt. Assuming one ever found where the head was on one that is.

Snape raised an eyebrow at him.

"You don't think so?"

Harry wondered if he was missing something. Concentrating, he imagined what he would do if someone he really _liked _turned out to be his father. Someone like... someone like... like Sirius, before he'd died. Wait...

"Am I going to be moving in with you?"

It was a toss up, Harry thought, to decide who he'd least like to stay with—Snape, or the Dursleys. Although this current Snape wasn't so bad; the man's temper was nowhere to be seen, his attitude almost pleasant. But how long would it last? The Gryffindor definitely didn't want to be around when his decency wore thin, especially when he didn't know why it had survived this long.

Both of Snape's eyebrows went up this time, Harry knew the question had surprised him.

"That is, Mr. Potter, entirely up to you. I'm not going to force you to do anything, but the option is available."

Harry bit his lip. Snape's phrasing seemed awfully... particular. As if he wasn't going to come right out and _say _he wanted Harry to live with him, but the inclination was certainly there. But why? To give him more opportunities to torture him? Harry doubted that was it. When it came down to it, the Snape he knew would prefer Harry be completely erased from existence. But that was what it all boiled down to. The man in front of him was not the Snape he knew. This Snape was nicer, in an odd sort of way. He still snarled and snapped, and insulted Harry, but the strong conviction behind his words was lacking. It was almost like the man was _teasing_ him. The idea slightly terrified him.

"I don't want to get in your way..." It was a pathetic excuse and he knew it. But the Gryffindor had reservations concerning living with Snape, and it was better to be safe than sorry.

"As it were, Snape Manor is quite extensive; you and I could possibly go a month without facing each other if we so desired."

Oh, that made all the difference in the world! He could live there for the month of July, until his seventeenth birthday rolled around, then leave and never look back. He would never have to return to Privet Drive again. And the best part? He wouldn't ever have to see Snape again either. Harry opened his mouth to accept, and then paused. Would he come off as rude if he agreed so readily only after being told he wouldn't have to see Snape? Hmm. Oh well.

"I wouldn't mind—"

"I would not be adverse—"

Both Harry and Snape started to speak at the same time. Then silence spread through the room.

"Uh..." Harry said.

"Have you made your decision already?"

Already? So he didn't have to decide right now, but Harry figured it would be better to go ahead and publisize his answer, in case Snape became angry with him for taking too long.

"Yeah, I have. I guess it wouldn't be so bad to move in with you."

Strange though it seemed, the Gryffindor was positive that all the tension there had previously been in Snape exited his body when Harry said that. Curious.

"Then it would be safe to assume we shall not require the services of this parchment?"

"Huh?" Harry asked, confused. For a few wild moments he entertained the idea that Snape had planned to punish him if he refused, until the man explained the parchment was actually a contract. A contract stating that hte two parties involved (he decided that meant him and Snape) no longer wished to have any sort of connection between themselves, and would be going their seperate ways, in all basicness.

"So you mean if I sign this, I'll never have to see you again?" Harry blurted out before he could censor himself.

Something that looked _astoundingly _like pain flashed across Snape's face as he nodded silently. Bugger.


	5. Discussions of Kinks and Impostering

**A/N: So my electricity was out for the past three days, and school's been canceled, which gave me plenty of time to write up another chapter haha. At least something good came out of it right?? ((But it's been so cold!!) Oh gawd, thanks for all the reviews. I feel loved 3 Oh, and if you're wondering why this says "part two" and the last chapter said "part one", it's because the two are really connected together, and this should really just be seen as a continuation of the last chapter, but since it was getting long I had to separate them. And give them different titles because one title couldn't cover both haha.**

"Discussions of Kinks and Imposter-ing" Pt 2

Whether Harry really wanted to stay with Snape or not suddenly became a non issue when he was confronted by his teacher's briefly visible hurt. For some very important reason, that he quite conveniently couldn't identify, eradicating all trace of the horrible emotion he had caused was immediately at the top of the list of priorities. Leaning forward in his chair, he swiftly ran words through his head, searching for the right thing to say.

"Er...well then. I dunno if I want to sign that then. At all. Could you imagine? Going the rest of my life without your snarky attitude, and without hearing you call me inept, stupid, bratty, incompetent, arrogant, impertinent, brainless, selfish, immature..."

Snape raised one immaculate eyebrow at him. Harry stopped ticking words off on his fingers and hurried to get back to his point.

"...and all those other things that don't really need to be repeated?" He hesitated, brushing black strands away from his eyes. "I reckon life would get pretty boring, you know?"

Well. He wasn't explaining this very well, if the bemused look on Snape's face was anything to go by. Harry bit his lip. How was he supposed to say this without it being mistaken for sarcasm? He reached a decision.

Harry snatched the parchment up off the Potion Master's desk, and, before Snape could react, ripped it jaggedly down the center. The man's eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

"Potter...?"

"Boring was never really my style."

Later, he would find himself sitting beside the fireplace in Gryffindor Common Room, berating himself for destroying his only escape route. He'd sigh dramatically. He'd glare at first years as though they were the cause of all evil. He'd slash at his wrists with a sharpened quill until his whole hand fell off and then feed it to a thestral. But all that would come later. Right now his mind was focused solely upon the discreet feeling of happiness he could sense emitting from Snape.

Wait.

_Sensed?_

Now he was sensing the bloody git's emotions?? Scraps of parchment slipped from betwixt his fingers, fluttered to rest down by his feet. Oh Merlin. And he'd so been hoping this couldn't get any more weird. Why did these things always have to happen to him? Snape cleared his throat.

"Since it can at least be concluded that you are not completely repulsed, I think it best we move on to the next order of business for now."

Ah. Harry'd wondered when his punishment would come up. It was all good and well to have this discussion about Fatherhood and whatnot now instead of drawing the matter out, but really, couldn't he just have a glimpse of normality? Now was the time for it. Or so he thought.

"Before the Headmaster indulged his _favored _pastime of meddling into others' affairs, he mentioned something of a mission, yes?"

"Er, yeah, but he didn't say what it was."

"It didn't occur to you that it might be prudent to ask?"

Harry felt his cheeks heat up, but remained silent.

"I suppose not. That would have demanded thinking on your part, and—"

"Hey, I think!" The outburst flew from Harry's lips.

Snape lifted an eyebrow.

"Eurgh! One of these days I'm going to tie you up and take wax to those eyebrows of yours!"

The man's face furrowed for a second. Harry could tell the threat had been lost on him before he even opened his mouth to reply.

"I fail to see how your... wax kink... relates in any way to your thoughtless actions, and, even more, why you wish to involve my _eyebrows _of all things, in it."

The green-eyed teen felt his jaw drop as a furious blush spread from one side of his face to the other.

"My WHAT??!!" he all but bellowed at Snape.

The dark-eyed man regarded him calmly while answering.

"Your wax kink. That is what you were referring to, is it not?"

"It bloody well is not what I was referring to!"

"Language, Potter," Snape chided him. Harry continued on as if he hadn't heard.

"First, waxing is just this thing that Muggles do to remove hair. Second, even if I _did _have a wax kink, I'd sooner share it with Voldemort than you!"

Oh he'd gone and done it again hadn't he? Let his mouth go off and spout whatever it wanted to before his brain had a chance to catch up. A nearly imperceptible cringe ran through Snape, and Harry doubted it was entirely due to the fact he'd said "Voldemort". He sighed.

"I didn't mean that," he said quietly. A look of indifference appeared on Snape's face and turned his features icy, but Harry, still sensing the man's emotions, knew better. Faint waves of hurt were rolling off Snape, though he'd never say it.

"Look, I'd definitely tell you before I'd tell Voldemort okay?"

Then he remembered that Snape was a double-spy, so Voldemort would probably end up knowing anyway. The two would probably cozy up in front of a fire at Malfoy Manor while drinking Ogden's Finest and have a good laugh over it. After the hangover wore off, and they found their respective clothing items, they'd then search for a way to use it against him. Still, his conscience insisted, it was the principle of the matter.

"And, er, I'd probably tell you before I'd tell Ron and Hermione. Ron would most likely have a seizure if I tried to discuss sex with him, and Hermione'd run off to the library to research every person in history who's ever had the same kink, and then present me with a brochure defining everything I ever wanted, or didn't want, to know about it."

Harry could have sworn there was mirth dancing in those twin swirling black abysses before him, but thought better than to mention it. The part of his heart that had earlier connected to Snape, however, crowed silently with delight. He briefly wondered whether he could carve it out of him without affecting the rest of his body, or if it was an integrated part of him now.

"Be that as it may, we've strayed from our original discussion and it would be best to return to it, lest we find ourselves sitting here all night."

Oh right. Harry pondered how the topic had turned to sex, which gradually brought him back to the mission.

"So... uh,yeah. What _is _the mission?"

"This, Potter, is a search and destroy operation. Undisclosed sources have discovered an imposter, whom we are being sent to track down. Upon finding him, we shall call him on his charade, and then obliterate him."

Harry thought that sounded a tad bit harsh. Obliterate him? Without bringing him back to the Order for questioning anything? Geez. Still, at least it wasn't him. Which reminded him...

"So who is this guy, uh.... imposter-ing?"

Snape's lips curled, but he made no comment on Harry's word choice.

"Me."


	6. Small Package Surprises

**A/N: I had Saturday School yesterday (ekk) which basically meant seven hours of absolutely nothing haha, so I had time to write a couple chapters =) Dunno how many I'll post today though. Thanks for all the reviews!!! I love you guys ;)**

"Small Package Surprises"

Early Saturday morning found Harry at Snape's side near the edge of Hogwart's anti-apparation wards, preparing to leave for Muggle London, where their mission would officially begin. Snape squinted his eyes at Harry.

"You are positive you—"

"Yes, I'm absolutely sure, for the tenth time, I've brought everything I think I'll need, and if you ask me again in two minutes, my answer will still be the same," Harry said exasperated. Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously, so he swiftly added, "Sir."

"I am only trying to ensure that we—"

"There's only so many times you can ask though!"

Harry suddenly felt Snape's hand clamp down on his shoulder. A jolt of shock and... something else... ran through him as he stared up at the man's face, which had somehow gotten very close within the last five seconds. He tried to pull back, but Snape's hand only gripped him tighter.

"Interrupt me again, Potter, and I assure you the penalty will not be pleasant. For you, at any rate."

Funny, not in a "haha" sort of way though, but Snape seemed to be acting less and less agreeable the more time they spent in each other's company. Although Harry knew that part of it (...okay, most of it) was his fault, he also knew there was something weighing heavily on the Potion Master's mind this morning. The man was distracted, not completely there, and kept asking him the same stupid question.

Okay, so the question hadn't been stupid the first time he heard it. But nine repeats later? Yes, stupid.

A wave of annoyance washed over him, and for a second Harry reveled in it, embraced it even, until a realization hit him. Only about half of the emotion was his.

Refocusing his attention on Snape, the messy-haired teen saw a dark scowl covering the man's face, but oddly enough it wasn't directed at him. The hand on his shoulder clutched him harder, and yet Harry could tell the action not deliberate on Snape's part. Following his gaze, Harry immediately understood.

"Ah! Harry and Severus. Fancy running into you two on my walk."

_Oh please,_ Harry thought, _like you didn't know we were here, barmy old codger._

"Headmaster." Snape nodded his head curtly at Dumbledore.

"Where are you off to this fine morning?"

"You know very well where we are going."

"Indulge me."

Snape sighed. _He knows Dumbledore's just here to bother us and ask questions, too, _Harry thought with a satisfied smile. The man's hand was still holding on to him almost painfully, but Harry didn't mind since he knew Snape was drawing comfort from the touch. Then he hastily shoved away the part of him intercepting Snape's feelings.

"We are headed for Muggle London," the tense Potions Master ground out.

"Oh yes! The mission. For a moment it completely slipped my mind," Dumbledore responded amiably. Harry resisted the impulse to roll his eyes.

_I believe that the way I believe Dudley's a swim wear model. _An image of his cousin in a Speedo rushed into his head; Harry cringed, the movement drawing two pairs of eyes to him.

"All set then, Harry m'boy?"

"Err... yeah," Harry mumbled awkwardly.

"Good, good." The wizened old wizard smiled brilliantly at them, his eyes twinkling madly. Harry hoped he wasn't epileptic.

"I came down here to give you both something you might find useful while you're gone!"

"I thought you were simply taking a walk?" Snape glared.

"And you'd forgotten all about us leaving today?" Harry chimed in.

"Did I? I don't recall."

The green-eyed teen felt his jaw drop.

"You just said it! Not more than five minutes ago!"

"Hmm," Dumbledore hummed, noncommittal. "Well, do remember that I'm getting old, Harry. Sometimes I forget things. One minute everything's there in my mind, the next—POOF!"

Harry scowled, remembering the talk he and Dumbledore had had yesterday. Next to him he heard Snape mutter just low enough that the Headmaster couldn't hear, "_Something's _missing from your mind, but it isn't just your memories." He hastily covered his laugh with a cough.

"Anyway! Back to my gift."

Dumbledore began rummaging through his pockets, a faint frown of concentration evident on his features. Then his hands surfaced, a small black leather box clutched in them.

"These have a subtle, but strong, charm on them that creates a connection that helps you find your way back to each other should you get separated. They also allow you to pass messages back and forth after you recite the proper code."

Harry had to admit it sounded like a pretty good idea. Having a method of communication could definitely come in handy. But what exactly were "they"?

As though reading his mind, which the teen thought was a distinct possibility, Dumbledore smiled.

"Oh yes, I suppose you should see what I've come up with."

A quick resizing had the box to its proper size, which really wasn't that much larger. Smaller than a shoe box at least.

"Now, the moment you've all been waiting—"

"You are not a Quidditch commentator, Headmaster!"

"Oh...yes. That's right."

Dumbledore slowly, gradually lifted the lid, clearly enjoying Snape's impatience and intending to make the absolute most of it.

Utter silence. Harry and Snape stared at the contents of the box, completely still, not saying a word. Harry looked, uncomprehending, at what they were expected to use to communicate. Then he found his voice.

"You want us to wear matching _underwear_??!!"


	7. The Secret Life of Underwear

**A/N: Uuhm yeah... I'm late. But at least I got back to it eventually :D I've been having inspiration issues haha. Someone inspire me!! Please?**

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

"The Secret Life of Underwear"

"Rest assured, Headmaster, that this is by far the most inane proposition you've ever presented and I have no intention of going through with it," an irate Potions Master snarled.

"Oh come now, m'boy, it's not that bad of an idea."

"The underwear has rainbow-colored polka dots."

"Couldn't we change the color?" Harry asked. "I mean, we're wizards."

"Certainly not, Harry! The color is an integrated part of the charm itself! To change the color would shatter the charm, leaving you with an ordinary pair of underwear."

"I swear you just made that up."

"He's not lying actually," Snape said in a tone that implied _not this time at any rate_. "Every charm created has a distinct signature that conbines with the castor's magical signature, and thus affects the final product. Color changes, when they happen, are based off the castor's magical signature."

"Okay, now you're **both **having me on," Harry said, incredulous. "I mean, rainbow-colored polka dots?? And Professor Dumbledore??" He paused. "Oh nevermind, I guess that does make sense."

Snaped nodded silently at him. Harry realized the man's hand was still resting on his shoulder after all this time. Had he forgotten about it? Strangely enough, or maybe not so strange when he considered all that had happened since yesterday morning, he didn't really mind. Snape's hand was warm, and now that he acknowledged its presence, small tingles began speeding through his body.

_Please don't let Professor Dumbledore notice! _Harry noiselessly begged.

But regardless of **why **it looks the way it does, I will not allow that abomination," Snape waved his free hand towards the larger pair of underwear, "anywhere near my body."

"You know, I don't think I'd feel very comfortable talking to my underwear if I had to send Snape—"

"_Professor _Snape, Harry."

"—a message."

Snape's fingers clenched almost impreceptibly around his shoulder; Harry turned his head to flash a tiny smile at him. When he moved his head back, he saw Dumbledore watching them, curiousity shining in his eyes. Then the old man's gaze dropped to Harry's shoulder, but, more importantly, Snape's hand. Harry shifted forward, desperate to cause a distraction. His emerald eyes fell onto the gaudy underwear.

"You know, I think this might actually be a brilliant plan," the teen said, reaching out a hand to take his pair.

Snape pointed a quizzical look down at him.

"But you just said—"

"Yeah, I know. But just think. When someone takes you hostage, what do they take? Your jewelry, your wand, your personal effects, etc. Anything that might be something else than what it looks like. But who would think to go after your underwear? I mean, it's the most unsuspecting thing you could use."

Dumbledore and Snape both stared at him in shock. Harry frowned at them, annoyed. Was it _that _surprising that he could think?

Snape's expression turned thoughtful.

"The color may give it away though."

"Oh not necessarily!" Harry answered. "They'll just think we're gay."


End file.
